Gartmore's shareholders can't say they weren't warned: the section on "risk factors" in the flotation prospectus last year ran to 16 pages. The firm's reliance on a few key individuals – the departed Guillaume Rambourg and the soon-to-leave Roger Guy were singled out – came near the top of the list.

Even so, the speed at which Gartmore has unravelled is extraordinary. Chief executive Jeffrey Meyer talks of being "hit by a storm we didn't see" – referring to the regulatory suspension of Rambourg in April – but it also looks as if Gartmore was incapable of doing anything to right the ship. It has suffered £1.5bn of net outflows this year.

Now, after Guy's departure, it fears greater hits. Meyer is in the desperate position of calling in Goldman Sachs to sound out potential buyers while simultaneously printing up to 15% more shares to secure the loyalty of the remaining crew. If such chaos can be triggered by the loss of a couple of individuals, you have to wonder whether Gartmore's business model deserves a place in the public markets.

The answer is probably not. Or, rather, valuations of mid-sized fund management firms in hock to their so-called stars should be set low – so low, in fact, that the firms would prefer to structure themselves as partnerships or as subsidiaries of banks or insurers.

Gartmore floated because it needed to pay down debt taken on in a private equity buyout. It was a weak reason for selling equity, which is why the price tag was slashed in stages to 220p.

At 107p, or a little more than £300m, the firm ought to attract interest since its funds have been performing okay and there is still £21bn under management. But Gartmore needs to act quickly to limit the post-Guy fallout. Shareholders won't see 220p again. Key employees, though, can expect any new owner to present them with its own lock-in formula. Therein lies the source of an inherently unstable model.